Small World
by Glittering Pegasus
Summary: Two teenage sisters. Two completely different lives. Two mysterious connections. One lie that will change it all...
1. Rory

A/N: Hey, guys! Okay first of all, I want to say that all my most recent fics, (Dreams in Sepia; Life's Tough, Get a Helmet) are not being abandoned. They're just getting put on hold for a bit. Lol. School is getting a little rough since the teachers want to make sure we don't start slacking off in the warmer weather, and my mom just got re-married. My life's been a little hectic. Lol

But now a friend from school and I have decided to co-write, which should make things a lot easier. So, my co- author (who is actually responsible for the idea of this story) is named Becky and is in my grade at school. She's registered on sd-1 under like "France!Really?France." I think but she hasn't posted much. Anyway, this is only like her second fan-fic so review a lot and make her feel welcome. ;-) Alright, here we go!

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**Small World**

Chapter One (By Becky)

Rory's POV

"...write a one page report on the French Revolution for tomorrow, and be sure to include your point of view on the revolution," Mr. McWeltles states as I run a hand through my slightly curly brown hair. The aftertaste of mint Trident gum is still in my mouth since I had to spit it out because the teacher caught me chewing it in class. So what? Another detention. Big deal. 

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEP. _

The eighth period bell finally rings. I pick up my books and hurry out of the classroom. It's Tuesday, my favorite day of the week. I have swimming practice tonight. I think about it on the way to my locker. Although it's only a short distance from last period to my locker, it's hard to get into as it's always crowded with the "popular kids." 

My sister's locker is right next to mine and they all crowd around it like it's some throne as they gossip with my sister. My blue eyes glare at her as I wait for her posse to move out of the way. I throw my books in and pull out my black one strap bookbag. 

I turn on the balls of my feet just in time to escape another prep crowd. 

I walk home and the spring petals floating off the trees rustle by my sides. As I wait to cross the street, a pay phone suddenly rings. I ignore the first three but finally, curiosity gets the best of me and I pick it up. "...Hello?"

All I hear on the other end is fuzz, then it clears just enough for me to hear my sister's name spoken quickly. More static. 

The line goes dead. 

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A/N: Not bad for one of her first, is it? Convince her of that, cause she's not sure. Lol. I know it doesn't really seem like an Alias fic yet, but it'll start to hint things in the next chap. Review so Becky and I have something to write notes about in class tomorrow. Lol. 


	2. Skye

A/N: Ok, now we're gonna get more into the world of Alias. Lol. :-)

Chapter Two: (By Dani)

Skye's POV

Sometimes in school I see my sister walking down the hallway. Usually, she's not alone. She may not be Little Miss Prom Queen, but she's got her own style and her own circle of friends that she seems to be pretty content with. 

I'm sure you've already formulated a huge persona for me in your head, one that includes a bubbly, ditzy, and somewhat snobby girl who gets voted president of everything, has a new boyfriend every week to get to home base with, and struggles to maintain a 2.5 GPA.

Please, I'm begging you to be the minority and trash that assumption before it escalates. The truth is, I look the role of the person described above, with my poker straight honey blonde hair and sea-green eyes. I try my best to be nice to people but often, I'm the one being written off. I don't have a boyfriend at the moment and I'm still a virgin. My GPA is almost as high as my sister's. It's both my sister's and my senior year and I've managed a 3.96. 

So every day I ask myself... why do I put myself in the situation that allows people to stereotype me? I feel as unfriendly towards my own crowd as Rory and her friends do. Sometimes the truth hurts, and the truth is that I'm not happy.

I want friends who take me seriously, who I can take seriously. Friends who care about something besides what fashion to make fun of on some poor kid, then steal and make a trend a week later. But most of all, I don't want my sister to be ashamed of me. But I've come too far and dug myself in too deep to turn back now. 

I drive home from school thinking about all this. I reach our apartment building and park in the lot, then head to our apartment, 3B. As I fumble for my key in the hallway, my neighbor from 4B exits into the hall. 

Now I have to admit, my neighbor is pretty damn hot, with his always somewhat tousled light brown hair and bright green eyes that, until recently, always seemed troubled. But I try to not think of him in that way since he's been almost like an older brother to my sister and me since we were three, and now he's exactly twice my age. 

Today, he wears dark blue jeans, a black button down shirt, and a smile. He's been smiling and wearing clothes other than suits a lot lately. 

"Looking snazzy, Mike," I comment, grinning. 

He laughs. "Thanks, Skye. So where's your sister?"

I shrug. "Who knows? So... hot date with that mystery woman again, I guess."

"Maybe."

"When do I get to meet this girl, anyway?"

"When you stop blasting Good Charlotte music off the terrace. The windows aren't sound proof, you know."

I finally produce my key and stick it in the lock. "Deal. So what's she like? She'd better be more suitable than Alice. Let me tell you Mike, I don't know what you were thinking."

"Only seventeen and yet so wise in the ways of romance."

"Stop avoiding my questions," I throw back. 

"Ever think of a career in law?" he jokes. I sigh, exasperated. He gives in. "Fine. She's... she's brilliant. She's kind, caring, strong... gorgeous."

"Wow, sounds like a catch."

"She is... I've never met anyone quite like Sydney before."

Ha! He's caught. "Ah, so Mystery Girl finally has a name. Sydney."

He smiles, defeated. "Alright, you win this time. But I've got to go or I'll be late."

"Right. Wouldn't want to keep Sy-y-y-dney waiting," I say, drawing out her name obnoxiously like I used to do when my sister had a crush in elementary school. 

"Ha. Tell Rory I said hey and sorry I missed her. Bye!" 

"Later."

He disappears down the hallway and I enter my empty apartment, wondering exactly what the hidden deal with 'Sydney' is and if she has anything to do with Mike's 'secret government job.'

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A/N: And so the plot thickens... lol. Review!


	3. Rory

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Sarah, AliasForever, Katie, everyone else that I can't list... lol you guys all rock. Well, now for chapter three.  
  
Chapter Three- Rory's POV By Becky  
  
I enter my apartment, the inside screaming the style of my sister. As I walk towards my room, she calls out. "Rory, is that you?"  
  
"No, it's some burglar who is going to kidnap, rape, and murder you," I reply sarcastically.  
  
"Funny!" she says, returning the sarcasm.  
  
I walk into my room. I love my deep purple walls and bright green ceiling. The walls are pretty much bare except for the corners where I've taped up pictures of my friends.  
  
My black and white plaid bedspread and comforter look welcoming, but I turn down the offer. I drop my black tote bag and walk out into the kitchen. I open the refrigerator.  
  
Skye's Diet Pepsi cans fill the shelves. I hate all Pepsi products. Coke is way better. I push through the popular cans of soda to a coke can. Regular. No diet for me. I open the can and take a sip, sitting down at the green kitchen counter.  
  
I begin to think about the strange event this afternoon. That had been a pretty weird phone call. I wonder how the person knew my sister's name. It's probably just one of my friends playing a joke. But still.  
  
I get up and walk back into my room. I sit on my bed and take another sip of Coke. I crack my ankles. I reach for my cordless phone and hit 'talk,' then put the phone up to my ear. I'm surprised to hear two voices, fading in and out with the static.  
  
Two deep voices. It can't be Skye. I can only hear bits of what they're saying through the fuzz.  
  
"Do...have it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"...she...take...bait?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Move on... 'E.'"  
  
"...course."  
  
I hang up shakily and press 'talk' again.  
  
The phone line is dead. *** A/N: Ok I know there are LOTS of weird phone calls and stuff relating to phones in this... but it'll all come together later so deal w/ it now. Lol. Review! Thanks. 


	4. Skye

A/N: For those of you on ff.net- pay no mind to the frivolous comment made by one "EthanHawkeTrueLove." I assure you she meant no harm... coughcoughcough. Lol. (In other words, it was Becky being stupid... lol )  
  
Chapter Four- Skye's POV By Dani  
  
"What's up with you?" I ask Rory as she stares at the phone.  
  
"Um, nothing. I'm... I'm fine."  
  
"Okay," I say, unsure. "Ok, um, Mike said hi."  
  
Rory just nods, looking down at her hand intently as though they're incredibly fascinating sight to behold.  
  
"You sure you're okay?" I press.  
  
"Uh-huh. I'm going to swim practice. See you," she tells me as she rises from her seat.  
  
"Swim's not till seven. It's only 5:30," I point out.  
  
"I'm going to visit Uncle Marshall first," Rory calls back over her shoulder as she opens the door and leaves.  
  
I sign online, talk to a couple of people, sign off, do some homework. Not that homework matters much. First of all, it's Spring Break now. No school for a week. ((A/N: I know earlier on we made a comment about an essay being due the next day, but ignore that. It was a mistake. Lol)) Second of all, all my college applications have been sent in and I even got early acceptance to one of my first choice schools, Princeton.  
  
When I finish my small amount of homework, (I like to finish even if I don't have school the next day so I don't have to worry about it later.) my mom arrives home.  
  
"Hey," I greet her.  
  
"Hi, Honey. How was your day?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Where's the twin?"  
  
"She went to Uncle Marshall's and I guess he'll give her a ride to swim."  
  
"Oh, ok."  
  
"Mom," I begin, "don't you think she spends a little too much time at Uncle Marshall's? I mean, she's seventeen and it's like she never sees daylight."  
  
"Well, the man is a mathematical and scientific genius, and you know how important M.I.T. is to her. I think it's good for her. Besides, I don't hear her complaining when you're always hanging out with Michael."  
  
"Yeah, well, Mike's cool," I mutter. Not that I don't love my Uncle Marshall immensely. He's just.... eccentric. And he doesn't have the best social skills.  
  
"Mom, I'm gonna go for a drive."  
  
"Alright... any special requests for dinner?"  
  
"Umm... ravioli?"  
  
"Sounds good. Be back by 6:30."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
I grab my keys and I'm out the door.  
  
As I speed along the roads, I once again get to thinking about Michael's girlfriend. I know it's none of my business, but the whole thing seems so shady. For someone he's only been dating for like, a month, it's as if they're already married or something. Yet I've never once seen her go into Mike's apartment.  
  
But maybe it's just one of those relationships you read about in books and see in movies... maybe they're soul mates or something.  
  
Maybe he knew he was in love with her since the first time he saw her a month ago. Maybe he knew her for more then a month.....  
  
Maybe there's a whole lot more to this story than my buddy Mike is letting me believe. Suddenly, I get an idea. I take a U-turn back to my apartment building.  
  
I'm going to find out about this "Sydney," even if I have to break a law or two to do it. **** A/N: Pllleeeeease review, even if it's like "EthanHawkeTrueLove"'s. lol. :- D 


	5. Rory

Chapter Five- Rory's POV By Becky  
  
I walk up the walkway to Uncle Marshall's house. His house is pretty normal looking except he has like ten different thermometers outside. I walk up the walkway and ring the doorbell.  
  
"Enter at your own risk," says a mechanical voice.  
  
I open the door and step in. There are papers and left over sushi containers everywhere. On the walls, there are framed portraits of his mom, Skye, him, and me.  
  
"Uncle Marshall?"  
  
"Down here!"  
  
I open the door to the basement and hop down the stairs.  
  
Uncle Marshall is dancing in front of a green screen.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm just.... taping myself. I'm gonna put myself in a film to make it look like I'm dancing with those Rocket girls who kick their legs up and down... you know?" He stops dancing and walks over to his computer.  
  
"Interesting."  
  
"Where's Skye? I haven't seen her in a while. I mean, not like I'm seeing her as in dating her, obviously. Seeing her as my niece."  
  
I giggle as I listen to him. "I don't know, probably shopping at Aerospatiale or something," I reply. "Like, oh my Gawd!" I squeal, mocking my sister's voice.  
  
"Oh well..." he turns around and looks at me from his swivel chair.  
  
"Hey, um, Uncle Marshall, there was something I wanted to tell you about. I answered this weird phone call on a pay pho-"  
  
"Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep"  
  
A bell goes off. I cover my ears because it's so loud. Uncle Marshall runs upstairs and then calls down to me "Oh my God, she's here, to see me. Not Skye, because we're not seeing each other. It's Carrie!" He sounds so nervous.  
  
I run upstairs to try to clean up the hallway form all the leftover food containers. I straighten up all the pictures on the wall. The door bell rings and someone starts to open the door.  
  
"Thanks for helping me with my homework Uncle Marshall, I'll see you later, ok?" I say as sweetly as I can, making sure Carrie heard me. I give him a hug and head out the door. On my way out he gives me a glance as if to say thanks.  
  
"Marshall, I didn't know you had such a cute niece-," I hear Carrie say as I close the door.  
  
My cell phone rings its usual Nokia tune. I answer it, "Hello?"  
  
All there is is static and then someone hangs up. I am so pissed. I want to move to Norway where they don't have cell phones. I get into my red pickup truck and start driving to swim practice. My phone rings again. I throw it out the window. 


	6. Skye

A/N: Yeah about the birthday reference in this- check abc.com profiles. Sydney and Weiss do, in fact, have the same birthday. Lol. Just wanted to point that out so you don't think I'm totally random. ;-) 

Chapter Six ~ Skye's POV

By Dani

"Ugh!" I almost have it, but my hairclip keeps slipping out of the keyhole. Finally, I hear it click. 

Looking on either side of me to make sure no one is coming, I quietly turn the knob and enter the empty apartment. I shut the door softly behind me. 

I feel so criminal. I feel violating. And yet, somehow, something about sneaking around, having an objective in mind and knowing I have to accomplish it, is giving me a rush. It's giving me this feeling that I've never had. It's... invigorating. 

I step carefully around the neat, organized, spotless rooms looking for a hint or a clue. A picture in a bronze frame sits on the top of Michael's T.V. It shows him with an extremely beautiful woman who I've never seen before. This has to be her. This has to be Sydney. 

Shiny, straight brown hair falls to her shoulders. Her eyes are a bright hazel, and a wide smile seems to light up her whole face. 

In the photo, Mike's arm is wrapped tightly around her shoulders. A birthday cake sits on the table in front of them. In the background, a sin on the wall reads "April 17th- Happy Birthday Eric and Sydney!" 

Mike and Sydney look so... happy, so content with each other. They really must be in love. 

So now I know that Sydney's birthday was two weeks ago, the same day as Michael's friend Eric. I've only met him once but I remember laughing at his jokes. 

I look away from the picture in search of something else. I don't want to intrude any more than I already have, so I decide to stay clear of the bedroom. I'm about to shuffle through some more of the photographs decorating the room when the phone rings. 

Now, I may be dense enough to sneak into my neighbor's apartment, my neighbor who's a freaking CIA agent, but I'm not so stupid that I'd answer his phone. I let it ring. The machine picks up. 

"Hi, you've reached Michael Vaughn. I'm not in right now so leave a message at the beep or call my cell phone at 312-555-7236. Thanks." BEEP. 

"Hello, Agent Vaughn, this is Director Kendall. I'm calling to remind you about the report you have to turn in tomorrow- don't forget. I expect Miss Bristow and yourself to be there on time tomorrow. You and Sydney seem to have problems with that." Click.  

Sydney... Agent Bristow. It's not hard to put two and two together. Well, now that I have a full name, I think I can leave. I can find a lot with a full name. Mission accomplished. 

As I head out the door, I accidentally knock a small wooden table. A manila folder that had been resting on it slides off and lands opened on the navy blue carpet. "Shit," I mutter, and bend to pick it up. 

That's when I notice the tab. "Bristow, Sydney." I try not to pay attention as I straightened the contents of the folder out and place them back in. The picture on top catches my eye, though, and I can't help but take a second glance. 

At the top, "Agent Wardrobe- Taipei" is written. A colored sketch lies below that. It's a bright blue, chin length wig, a black vinyl brassier under a long sleeved black fishnet top, and shiny black pants. I can't imagine what the outfit was for. 

In any case, I know I have to get out of here. I put the folder back neatly on the table and quietly exit the apartment. In the safety of the hall, I pull out my cell phone and dial information. 

"Information, what is your question?" a mechanical voice asks. 

"Can I get the listing for Sydney Bristow?" 

I wait for a second, then the automated voice says "Spelling, please."

I walk down to the other end of the hallway while speaking. "S-Y-D-N-E-Y...B-R-I-S-T-O-W."

Another pause. "Philadelphia, Los Angeles, or Columbus?"

"Los Angeles."

"Sydney Bristow: 361 Nashua Avenue, Los Angeles. 312-555-8473. Will that be all?"

I'll never figure out how these recordings know what you're saying. "Yes." 

"Thank you for calling informational services. You will be charged $1.50 for your call. Have a nice day!"

I recite the information to myself as I click off the phone and enter my apartment again. For some reason, my cell phone suddenly rings before I have the chance to put it down. "Hello?"

"...she... Hawke..."

What? That's my last name! It's hard to hear the voices through the static, but I can make out some words. 

"...Vaughn.... Skye..." 

Static. 

Then nothing. 

***

A/N: Yet another mysterious phone call ending. I'm sensing a pattern here. Lol. Well don't worry, the really good stuff starts coming very soon. And don't worry about us dropping this fic. We're on chap. 20 already. Lol. I'm just too lazy to type them all. ;-)

PLEEEEEEEEAAAAASE review!!!!


	7. Rory

Chapter Seven- Rory's POV

By Becky

I walk into my apartment building and climb the three flights of stairs. My feet squish against my Adidas sandals. 

When I come to my floor, Mike's apartment door is open. I hear a sound like papers being shuffled and footsteps padding throughout the apartment, then a whispering voice that sounds oddly like my sister's. I wince then shake it off. 

I enter my own apartment and the smell of ravioli fills the air. I walk into the kitchen after I drop my swim bag in the living room. A bowl of untouched ravioli sits on the table across from where Skye is eating hers. 

"Mom had to go to work. I'm going to the club to celebrate the first night of Spring Break. Want to tag along?" Skye asks me, looking up from her dinner. 

"I don't know. Why are you being so nice to me?" 

"Who said I was being nice? My friends are at a concert and I didn't feel like going, but I don't want to go out alone." 

"Uh, sure... okay. Uncle Marshall said hi, by the way."

"Alright. Thanks," Skye says, then gets up and goes to her room. I take a bite of my ravioli. As I eat, I think about what to wear tonight. 

After I finish, I go to my room as well. Whenever I go to the club, I feel like I should be someone else. Rory Hawke, the top GPA, student of the month, teacher loved senior would not go out and party like this. No, I have to be someone completely different. 

I get out a bright green wig and pull my hair up to put it on. It goes to my shoulders. I find my contact case and put in dark purple contacts, then pull on a dark purple strapless mini dress. I put on a pair of bright green heels. I look in the mirror. I match my room. 

I put on some makeup then grab my purse. My sister is in the kitchen waiting. She is wearing shiny black pants and a black fishnet top over a black spaghetti strap top. She'd cut her electric blue waist length wig all the way up to her chin. 

"Whoa, where'd you get the idea to wear that?"

"Um... nowhere," she answers. 

"Uh, ok," I answer back. I walk out the door and my sister follows. 

"I'm driving," I tell her.

"Yeah, right," she replies. She hops into her car and I get in on the other side. My sister starts the car and we speed off. 

***

I walk around the club looking for my twin. She's probably picking up guys or something. Some retards suddenly laugh behind me, and I realize they're laughing at my green hair. 

I shoot them a glare that would kill, and they stop laughing abruptly. I head into the bathroom anyway and take off the wig, wondering why my sister could get away with this kind of thing. 

I feel so defensive. I look in the mirror. My curly brown hair falls below my shoulders. I fix my dress a little then go back out into the club. I continue my search for Skye. 

"Where the hell is she?" I ask myself, maybe a little too loudly. 

"Where the hell is who?" a guy suddenly asks over the blare of the music. I turn around and find myself facing an incredibly cute teenager. He has light brown hair and sea green eyes. 

"My sister... she's wearing all black and has bright blue hair," I tell him. 

"She sounds different." 

"Actually, I feel like I'm the 'different' one in the family. She's the prom queen type. She's a cheerleader and preppy... just like my mom." 

"Oh really, and she has blue hair?" he asks. 

"No, she's wearing a wig," I practically scream over the techno beats. 

"Oh... well, my name's Andrew."

"Rory." 

Suddenly, a drunken man yells into my ear from behind. "Hey, Baby. Dance with me."

"No thank you," I answer, trying not to be too harsh. 

"Just one dance," he says and grabs my wrist. He starts pulling me. 

"She said no, Man," Andrew told him. 

"Well I didn't. Come on, pretty girl," he pulls at me harder. 

Out of nowhere, Andrew swings a punch at him. He falls, knocked out. I guess Andrew expected me to be thrilled by his gallantry, but I'm not. In fact, I'm angry that he felt I couldn't take care of myself. And that's exactly what I tell him. 

"I was helping you," he protests. 

"I didn't ask for your help," I yell at him. Then I spot Skye talking to a young woman with brown hair. I go over to her and Andrew follows. I ignore him and pull Skye out of the club. Andrew looks disappointed. 

"What was that about?" Skye questions just before we reach her car. She unlocks the door and I hop into the passenger's seat and explain the story to her on the way home. 

"Did you ask for his number?"

"Nooo," I answered slowly as we reached the building. It was so typical for my twin to ask something like that. 

We walk into the lobby. Mike's there with a girl. There are suitcases sitting next to them. The girl turns around to see who'd come in and I feel a jolt. It's the same person Skye had been talking to at the club. 

***

A/N: Congratulate us, we strayed away from the weird phone ending. Lol. Okay, school is ***finally* **out. So expect a big flow of chapters soon. (We've written up to twenty two. Lol) Review! 


	8. Skye

Chapter Eight- By Dani

Skye's POV

I shrug at my sister. "You should have. He was cute... what are you looking at?" I ask as I watch Rory staring. 

I follow her eyes and see Mike and Sydney, who I'd finally met at the club tonight, pulling suitcases to the elevator. "Oh, that's Sydney."

"Who?"

"Sydney Bristow, Michael's girlfriend. I met her at the club. I suggested the club to him once and I guess he figured it would be fun to take her there." 

"Oh..." Rory replies slowly. "What's she like?" 

"She's so cool. They're perfect for each other, too. You should see them just hanging out and stuff. They should be next to 'hopelessly in love' in the dictionary." 

Rory rolls her eyes. "Multi- worded phrases aren't in the dictionary." 

"Whatever." 

What I failed to mention to my sister, however, is that Sydney was a little freaked out by me. She and Mike defiantly noticed that I'd been wearing almost the same outfit she had on in that picture. Then I guess they'd figured it was just a coincidence because they'd shrugged it off and hadn't said anything about it. 

I hoped I hadn't given myself away. 

"I'll be in in a minute," I say to my sister. "Hold the elevator." 

I head over to where Sydney was picking up her bag again and moving with Mike in the direction of the elevator. 

"Hey Mike. Hi Sydney."

"Hey," Sydney answers, grinning. She's so... friendly. 

"What's going on?" I ask, indicating the bags. 

Sydney beams and glances at Mike. I don't need an answer to know what's going on. 

Mike answers anyway. "I asked Sydney to move in with me." 

"Oh my God. Guys, that's awesome. Congrats!" 

Wait... she's never even been to his apartment, has she? 

"Thanks, Skye," Mike says. 

"Skye!" I hear my sister call. 

"Oh, Rory's holding the elevator. You coming up now?" 

"Yeah," Sydney answers, and we all step into the elevator. When we reach out floor, the doors slide open and we all exit. 

As Mike and Sydney head for his door, I give them a word of advice. "Be good, you two! And be safe. One Michael Vaughn in this building is about all I can handle right now." 

"Skye!" Rory gasps, but she's smiling. 

The couple is equally pink in the face. They laugh. "Skye Hawke, when did you become such a trash mouth?" Mike asks me. "I still remember you at five years old asking me where babies come from when I was babysitting you." 

"Adolescence," I answer innocently. 

They shake their heads. "Well, it was nice meeting you guys," Sydney tells us. 

"You too," we echo. 

"Night." 

We all enter our rooms. 

My cell phone rings. The caller ID doesn't pick up the number. 

"I'm gonna take this outside," I tell Rory. I'll be back in a few minutes. 

I go out into the hallway. "Hello?"

"Skye Hawke?"

"This is Skye." 

"Good."

"Who is this?" 

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that right now." 

"Um, okay. Is this some kind of joke?"

"This is no joke."

I wait silently for the man to say something else. "Miss Hawke? Are you there?"

"Yes. Tell me who this is," I demand. 

"I can't tell you that," he repeats. "But I can tell you to come to the Smithson storage facility at 7:30 tomorrow night. All will be explained." 

"Yeah, right."

"Sarcasm will get you nowhere, I promise you. It may work on your sister Rory and your neighbor Michael Vaughn might think it's cute, but it won't work for me." 

"Who the hell are you, you freak? Tell me, God damnit, or I'm calling the cops!" 

"Tomorrow, Smithson Storage Facility, 7:30. Come alone-"

"In your dreams, Dipshit-" 

"-And be aware that the police cannot help. There are more of us than just me. Goodbye, Miss Hawke." 

"You-"

"Goodbye."

Click. 

What the hell was that about? I have some f*cking British psycho stalker after me. But what can I say to the police? I have no evidence or physical description. Only an anonymous phone call. And they'd warned me.... 

What the hell do I do?

Suddenly, my cell phone beeps, indicating a message. I listen to the voice mail. 

"Be there if you want Rory to make it to her next swim meet." 

==================================

I can't call the police. They'll restrain me from going to the meeting. Then the caller will hurt my sister. Or they'll come with me and catch the caller, but then his partners will hurt her anyway. 

I have to go, if only to protect her. I can handle whoever this person is. Nine years of kickboxing training pretty much guarantees that. I glance at the clock. 6:45. I have forty-five minutes to decide the fate of my twin sister. 

I make up my mind, knowing full well that this is probably the most idiotic thing I'll ever do. I grab up the lavender bag I always bring to my lessons, filled with everything I might need for a fight. 

I don't say anything to anyone as I leave. I just slam the door behind me and run towards the empty elevator. 

==============================

I shiver. It's cold in here. I'm dressed for a spring Los Angeles day, not a 20 degree, non-heated warehouse. 

I'm alone. Checking my watch, I see that it's 7:24. Six minutes. I wrap my arms around myself and wonder momentarily if this is a joke. Maybe my friends will just out from a corner and laugh at me for being so damn gullible. No, I know that can't be it. They'd never do something this insane. 

I hear a rustle from the gate and am pulled from my thoughts. My heart pounds. They're here. A figure steps out from the shadows. 

"Good evening, Miss Hawke." 

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	9. Rory

A/N: Sorry it took so horribly long! I kinda... lost the notebook for a while... lol. I promise to update more often now though. If I don't Becky will kill me. Nice friend, huh? ;-)

**IMPORTANT!!: We kinda messed up on some of the times in the last chapter. Pretend Skye had to go meet the mystery caller at ****10:15 pm****, not ****7:30****. Ok? Lol. Sorry about that. **

Chapter Nine~ By Becky

Rory's POV

After I change, I sit in my living room watching "Will and Grace." It's a really funny show. 

Skye just left to go somewhere. Probably some "totally cute guy" who needs some "help" with something. I get up and grab my black purse and head out the door. I walk down to the parking garage of the apartment building. 

_Oh, sh*t, _I think as I see my car. There's a ticket on the windshield. It looks like a parking ticket. But... I didn't park wrong. 

I walk over to my car and pick up the slip of paper. I glance down at it. It looks like a regular ticket but random letters on it pop out at me like some sort of code. After staring at it for a moment, I'm able to decipher it. 

_Come to Twelve and Rookie under the light. __10:30__. _

This is getting weird. But then, the last few days have been weird. Like someone is watching me. It already is 10:30. 

I don't know what comes over me, but I have a sudden urge to play this out like a spy. Secretive and covert. I crumple up the ticket and shove it in my back pocket, then hop into my car and stick the key in the ignition. 

I speed out of the garage and head to 12th and Rookie. As I drive my palms begin to sweat. My hair is still wet from the shower and I shiver. 

I reach 12th and Rookie at around 10:45. I wait for about 10 minutes when it suddenly hits me that this is probably all just a joke. I sigh and start my car again, mentally slapping myself for being so gullible. 

Suddenly, I hear someone banging on my window next to me. My heart leaps. I turn quickly and look out the window. It's Uncle Marshall! 

"You got my message," He says. 

"Yes, what's this about?" I ask. 

"Well, there's a few things you have to know. Well I mean, more than a few things all together but first things first, this is big news and we don't want to rush it-"

"Uncle Marshall... what?" I cut in before his ramble can get to far. 

"OK well... I don't really work for a bank. I work with the CIA. Your neighbor- Michael Vaughn- and his girlfriend Sydney- they work with me and we've been studying you for a while now. Well not exactly studying, because that would be creepy, but we've been... keeping an eye on you and-" 

At this point, I faint. 

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I wake up. My first thought is that the whole thing had been a dream. But then I realize I don't know exactly where I am and my head is pounding. My eyes adjust and I see that there's dim lights surrounding the room. That's when I see him walk over to me. Michael. 

"Hey, are you alright? Marshall said you bumped your head on the steering wheel when you blacked out."

No wonder my head hurts so bad. I reach up and feel the rather large lump near my temple. The pain is still throbbing. This rules out the dream theory even more, I guess. 

"I think I'm fine," I reply. 

A few more people enter the room now. Marshall and a tall, pretty brunette woman who introduces herself as Sydney. Ahh, so_ this_ is Sydney. 

That's when I see him. Andrew, the guy from the night club. He starts coming towards me. 

"Rory, this is my younger brother Andrew. He was recently recruited." 

I smile weakly at him. He doesn't smile back. 

Mike's pager goes off and he excuses himself for a moment. 

"Hi," I say to Andrew. 

He walks away without saying a word back to me. 

*********

A/N: Awww, poor Rory. Lol. So... what's going on here? And what's happening with Skye back at the warehouse with the mysterious shadowy man? Will Andrew warm up to Rory again? Will Rory accept the recruitment? Tune in for the next installment to find out, and don't forget to REVIEW! :-D


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